


He's Only Here for the Cake

by CrowKing



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Long One Shot, One Shot, Some comedy, can i make it anymore obvious, he was a smith, she was a baker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-21
Updated: 2017-10-21
Packaged: 2019-01-20 15:08:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12435372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrowKing/pseuds/CrowKing
Summary: Fic Request: "You're a great writer of FANFIC (like the best I've come across) and you write your stories out super nicely. Also because I'm feeling needy and greedy, could you do a long-ish imagine with Podrick or Gendry because those two don't get enough love and their so darn good! Bless up"Gendry Waters is a regular at your bakery. Every day he orders the same thing. Bertha, a family friend, thinks that Gendry isn't just here for the sweets.





	He's Only Here for the Cake

You blushed when he walked into your family’s bakery. His brown hair and kind eyes were always a dead giveaway. Every day he asked for the same thing: the cake of the day and fresh milk. You sat him sit down at the same table. Dirt was all over his neck and upper chest, not that you were looking. You disappeared into the back to fetch the milk.

“Same thing, my dear?” Bertha asked him with a smile. She wiped extra dishes clean with a dish rag.

“Yes ma’am,” Gendry answered. He waited patiently. “What is it today?”

“Lemon cake,” Bertha shouted. “We got a shipment in last night, and the boss wanted to put it to use right away. It’s freshly made.”

“I’m sure I’ll enjoy it either way,” Gendry said. You could hear his smile from the back of the bakery. You felt your heart leap, but you needed to quiet it. It was already embarrassing that you knew what he wanted right away. You came through to the front of the store with Gendry’s usual. You set the plate down with a pint of the fresh milk.

He smiled up at you. “Thank you, miss.” His smile never wavered. His eyes never left yours. You bowed a bit, and scurried back to the kitchen. Gendry started going at the lemon cake. He wasn’t a pretty eater. He usually took the fork and shoveled big chunks of the cake into his mouth while still making conversation.

“How do you like it?” Bertha asked him, continuing the same menial task.

“Its gooood,” he exaggerated. “Said you got this from last night?” Bertha nodded her head.

“Yes, Y/N made it early this morning.”

“She always makes them good,” he chuckled. You blushed behind the sacks of flour you were hiding behind. Gendry couldn’t see you, but Bertha could. She glanced your way and then back to Gendry. He finished his milk and paid up front as always.

“Thank you, Bertha. Give my regards to Y/N for the cake,” Gendry walked out the door and went back to work like he always did every day. Bertha turned to you and you could already hear her.

“Don’t say it!” you exclaimed. 

“He has affections for you!”

“He does not!” 

“What’s this yelling about?” you father stepped in. He carried empty bags back into the store, done with deliveries for today.

“I’m only suggesting that the blacksmith may or may not be interested in Y/N,” Bertha explained, smiling at you. 

“Gendry? That young man?” your father shook his head. “No. No, no, no. Absolutely not. Y/N is not ready for marriage. I know that because I’m her father, and I know best.”

“No one said anything about marriage,” you put your two cents in. “Besides, he’s not interested in me. I’m just a baker. There are plenty of other prettier girls out there. He’s only here for the cake.” Bertha rolled her eyes and all of you went back to work as usual.

\--

The next day arrived faster than you thought. Although, it had been busier than usual. You watched the blacksmith come in and sit, and you hid again. This time, Bertha fetched his usual and set it in front of him.

“Blackberry today,” she said placing the plate in front of him. 

“Blackberry, that’s different,” Gendry commented and started to eat. “Isn’t it usually spiced cake every fourth day?”

“Y/N wanted to try something different today,” she told him. 

“Is that why she’s hiding?” Gendry smiled. “Afraid of what I might say?” Bertha glanced back to the sacks of flour and then took a seat with Gendry.

“Gendry, you come in here every day and get the same thing,” she inquired. “Don’t you have a wife that could bake these same cakes for you?” You felt a chill go up your spine. What was Bertha doing? You watched Gendry carefully.

“No, I don’t,” Gendry chewed. Your stomach flipped.

“What about lovers? Any of those?” Bertha was pushing it, but you wanted to know so badly. Gendry shook his head.

“Nope, none of those,” he responded. He wiped his mouth of the crumbs. He sniffed and went back to eating. You wandered back up to the counter to wipe it down, and to watch Gendry. Bertha smiled at you.

“Do you have your eyes on anyone at the moment?” she asked. You side-eyed Gendry, waiting for an answer. He wiped his mouth again and answered.

“You could say that,” Gendry looked to you and held his gaze there, watching you wipe the counter. You couldn’t meet his eyes. It would be too much. Gendry gulped down the last of his milk. “Thank you for the cake, Y/N.”

You caught Gendry’s back as he left the bakery and then you caught Bertha smiling at you like she just figured out the greatest puzzle.

“Stop that!” you blushed. “He’s only here for the cake, Bertha! That’s it.”

\--

The next day was filled with the pleasant sounds of the market. It was your turn to do the shopping for the week which meant you got to pick out what kind of cakes you were making for the week. You filled your baskets with all sorts of berries, spices, and sweets.

The smell of cinnamon went up your nose. Winter was coming, and the demand for heartier, wintry cakes would come soon. Harvest was your favorite time of year. All sorts of people came from far and near to share their goods with others.

You stepped back into the bakery when you heard two familiar voices in the front. You moved one loose bag of sugar and peeped through the hole. 

“So what do you think?” Gendry said to your father.

“It’s very impressive!” your father exclaimed and laughed. Gendry was talking to your father. Gendry was talking to your father about you. No, that’s a silly thought. You looked down to see Gendry holding a beautifully made sword in his right hand. They weren’t talking about you at all.

Slipping out from behind the supplies, you joined the conversation.

“That’s a beautiful sword, Gendry,” you said out loud.

“Thank you!” he beamed at you. “Come here take a look.” You walked closer and Gendry held out the sword in a safe manner for you to examine. The blade itself was polished and had intricate designs weaving down the middle of the sword. The handle was made a strong, hard steel with wood. The wood was also carved with the deer antlers.

“This is very detailed work,” you finally said. “I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“Really? You mean that?” Gendry asked you, he leaned towards you. 

“Yes, I do,” it felt wonderful to have his full attention. His blue eyes looked into your e/c ones. “Who did you make it for?”

“Not who, what,” Gendry began. “I was just telling your father that I’m entering her into the blacksmith competition coming up before the harvest. And based n your reaction, I’d say I have a pretty good chance at winning.”

“Her? Does she have a name?”

“She does,” Gendry smiled. “She’s very light, and she’s very pretty. She reminds me of someone very dear to me. Someone very sweet, so I named her, Sweetling.” Gendry winked at you. You looked away and continued to put your market finds away.

“Well, we wish you the best of luck, Gendry,” your father told him. He took a broom and started to sweep the dirt to outside. Gendry walked up to the counter.

“Are those apples?” he asked you. You nodded. “Were you planning to make cake with those?”

You shook your head. “No, not exactly. I was going to make pie.” Gendry sniffed the air and smiled.

“I may have to change my usual then, hm?” He leaned over the counter. You saw a bit of his chest and it was covered in some soot again. “Y/N, I was wondering if you and your father would come to the competition. It would really make me happy if you—and your father were there.” 

“I’ll be there,” you smiled.

“I’ll see you then, sweetling,” Gendry said as he left. You turned to see Bertha behind you.

“Cake, Bertha! He really, really likes our cake!” you shouted before she could even breathe in your direction.

\--

Lannister knights scattered the blacksmith competition in the blacksmith alley. Their polished gold armor shined in the sun, and their dirty, black-soot attitudes littered the streets like disease. Some of them shopped around for new weaponry and armor. 

You couldn’t see Gendry or his sword anywhere. Another alley provided a shortcut to the next block. You ducked through the alley, hoping to make the trip quick. 

“Hold up there now, what do you think you’re doing?” one of the soldiers came from behind you. 

“I’m sorry, sir,” you apologized. “I was only taking a shortcut to see my friend. The crowd out there is so dense, I can barely see any of the blacksmith’s works.”

“No need to apologize,” he put his hand to the wall, trapping you against it. “But you could make it up to me if you feel the need.” His finger caught the ends of your hair.

“S-sir, I don’t think that’s appropriate.”

“Who cares about what’s appropriate?” the soldier grabbed your hair tight. You heard a loud clang against the wall and you open your eyes to see Gendry holding a Warhammer, nostrils flaring.

“Get. Away. From. Her. Now,” he warned. “Or your chest will sing once I hit this against you.” The soldier laughed.

“You wouldn’t do that. You know better than to—

Gendry’s hammer hit the wall next to the soldier, creating dust and chunks of the building to go everywhere. The hole was large and oddly-shaped. Your mouth gaped open and Gendry came between you and the soldier.

“The next time you threaten my lady will be the last time your head is on your shoulders,” he threatened, gripping the hammer tight. The soldier looked at the wall again, and then took off running in the other direction.

“Are you alright?” Gendry asked you, putting his hand on your shoulder. 

“Gendry-I-I’m so sorry, I need to go,” you took off towards home. He called you his lady. He said you were his. He didn’t mean that. All of the girls of Westeros and he said you’re his. You returned to the bakery out of breath and slightly panicked.

“What happened to you?” Bertha asked, panicked herself.

“Gendry-he defended me. He called me his lady,” you stood against the wall. Trying to catch your breath, you watched Bertha give you the biggest smile you’d ever imagine.

“I told you!” she shouted. “He’s not here for the cake, you silly fool! I told you! What did you tell him?”

“What?”

“What did you say to him?” Bertha asked you again. The thought didn’t occur to you. You never said a thing to him.

“I left him.”

“You what?”

“I left him there in the alley. I told him I needed to go,” you put your face in your hands realizing what you just did. 

“No, you did not!”

“I did!” you exclaimed. 

“Y/N! I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” your father walked in. “I couldn’t find you at the—

Bertha and you shot your father a horrid look. He put up his hands, and did an about face. You heard him mutter something along the lines of ‘why did I have a daughter?’ Bertha walked over and took you to the kitchen. She placed a couple of ingredients on the counter.

“You will make him a cake. You will take it to him and apologize,” Bertha instructed.

“But I—

“Do it,” Bertha put the flour in your hands, dust flying in your hair and face already. The cake took you no time at all. You were good at that, but looking at yourself in the mirror practicing what to say to him was a different story.

How could you express every little thing to him? The hiding. The spying. The running away. You couldn’t bring yourself to have a full conversation with him without blushing or feeling warm. How were you supposed to apologize to him for running off like that? Maybe you shouldn’t. Maybe you should move North and Gendry will never find you.

That’s ridiculous. Gendry had mentioned to you he’d been North. You couldn’t hide from him there. 

You looked at yourself in the mirror. What did you have to offer him? Surely, Gendry had other women in his life. You were a baker’s daughter. You almost always had flour in your hair or bags under your eyes from lack of sleep. Why would someone so handsome and kind want you?

You walked into blacksmith alley again. This time with less golden cocks everywhere. Gendry was talking to two of castle guards. They were laughing and admiring his work in his workshop. You tip-toed your way in, holding the cake. 

“That was a good story, Brayden,” Gendry laughed. 

“What about you?” Brayden asked. “Why do this? Why fight?” Gendry looked past the guards to see you, holding a cake. His arm outreached towards you. He gestured with it for you to come closer. The guards noticed you, holding the cake, going towards Gendry.

“This is why,” Gendry smiled, wrapping his arm around you. “So pretty girls like her can bring me cake whenever I please.” You felt your heart beat and butterflies tickles inside of you.   
“Isn’t that the truth?” Brayden guffawed out loud. “It was good seeing you, Gendry. Let me know when you’re selling that hammer of yours.” The guards left you and Gendry alone. Now was your chance.

“Gendry I—

“No, let me apologize,” he interrupted you. “In the alley, I shouldn’t have called you, my lady. And I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that just now. That was forward of me, and I am sorry.”

“No I’m sorry. I just-I,” you took a deep breath and let it all out at once. “WhatyoudidwaswonderfulandIwantedtotellyouthatIreturnyourfeelingsaswellandIhopeyoueatthiscakeithasapplesinit.”

You closed your eyes and hoped for the best. You felt a warm sensation on your lips. You returned Gendry’s kiss with your own energy, and thus dropping the cake onto the ground. You gasped and let go of Gendry. You scrambled to the ground, grabbing at pieces. Gendry laughed at you and held you.

“You know,” he said. “It was never really about the cake.” Gendry kissed you again, and you felt your arms wrap around his neck, both of your hearts matching a steady pace.


End file.
